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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28837260">A Glance</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/elementalram/pseuds/elementalram'>elementalram</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Classroom Sex, Emmy is a business school student at Gressenheller, F/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, and she fucks a teacher, that's about the whole plot right there</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:47:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,676</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28837260</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/elementalram/pseuds/elementalram</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It started with a simple glance, a chance meeting of the eyes from across a crowded library.  And, after several days of slow mutual pining, it ended with a good dicking, as most of my stories do.  So if you're ready for a little literary pornography, then sit down and strap in!  I hope you like it!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Emmy Altava/Hershel Layton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Glance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It started with a simple glance, a chance meeting of the eyes from across a crowded library.  He nodded, she smiled, and the whole exchange might have just ended there had it not been for the sudden change in weather later that evening.  </p>
<p>With his satchel full of books for later perusal, the Professor walked out onto the wide stone steps of Gressenheller’s Faraday Library and pushed open his umbrella.  Thankfully, his office was only a minute's walk away.  He took a deep breath.  The icy cold air filled his lungs.  But, just as he was about to step out into the rain, a splash of color caught his attention from the corner of his eye.  </p>
<p>There, with her back pressed against one of the enormous double doors, stood the woman he’d seen earlier.  With long, dark curls cascading over her shoulders, she wore a bright red, green, and blue varsity volleyball jacket and faded blue jeans.  Her arms were folded; she wore a frown as she stared out into the downpour.  Ultimately, she sighed and began to step forward as though resolved to walk through the rain.</p>
<p>The Professor held out a hand.  She stopped, and their eyes met once more.  As though in recognition, she smiled, and as she did, small creases formed at the corners of her dark eyes.  Despite the frigid breeze, the Professor felt an unexpected yet curious warmth in his chest.</p>
<p>“Please,” he said, holding out his umbrella for her to take.  “My office is just around the corner, you see.” </p>
<p>The woman stared at him.  She looked at the umbrella, then at the man before her, then back again.  “As kind an offer as this is, certainly I couldn’t accept such a big favor from a stranger,” she finally said.</p>
<p>He smiled.  He reached out with his free hand and grasped hers.  His palms were rough but warm.  “I’m Professor Layton.  But you can call me Hershel.”</p>
<p>“Oh!” She seemed taken aback.  “I’m Emmy.  Emmy Altava.”</p>
<p>Soon after, with his umbrella in her hand, she watched him hop down the steps of the library into the rain.  Before rounding the corner, he gave a little wave, tipped his hat, then disappeared.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>It started with a knock on the door, the sound of feet shuffling to stand, the scrape of a chair, and the creak of an old door slowly swinging open to reveal the bewildered face of Professor Layton in his office late on a Friday evening.  </p>
<p>“Hello, Hershel.”  She glanced down.  The Professor followed her gaze to the umbrella in her hand.  Suddenly, memories from their encounter flooded his mind.  </p>
<p>“Ah, yes!  Emmy, right?  Do come in.  I was just about to put a pot on.”</p>
<p>“Oh, don’t go through the trouble on my account. I just wanted to return your umbrella.”</p>
<p>“Nonsense, won't you stay for a while? I just bought a new batch of tea that I’d been looking for a reason to brew...”</p>
<p>Part of her wanted to decline, to dart back to the familiarity of Gressenheller’s business school on the other side of campus.  But, as he stepped aside to open the door wider, her fears began to fade.  The curious sight of archaeological finds organized on shelves lining the walls; the deep aroma of tea already ingrained into the wooden floors, walls, and furniture; the soft, soothing sounds of violins emanating from the phonograph in the corner… everything about this place, and this man, was wholly alluring.</p>
<p>Already the Professor had crossed the office to arrange a tray.  Emmy softly closed the door behind her, perched herself upon the edge of the orange sofa, and watched the man crouch under the little kitchenette's counter, muttering something under his breath about needing to find "the good scones.”  As he searched, Emmy allowed her eyes to wander: first, over his collection of skulls in the cabinet by his corner desk, then up and over the diagrams on the wall depicting anatomical representations of humans and animals alike.  But soon, she found her eyes resting on the muscles through the shirt on his back, his legs, and his tight looking—</p>
<p>“Tell me, Emmy, what’s your current focus?” he asked, straightening up.<br/> <br/>Emmy felt her face grow hot. She quickly looked away. “A-accounting.”</p>
<p>“Accounting! You’ve a mind for math, then?”<br/> <br/>“Well, no. Not really. Everyone says it's a smart choice, though. It pays well, after all.”</p>
<p>The Professor hummed in agreement. "This 'everyone' you speak of sounds sensible.” As he spoke, the Professor returned to the couch with a wooden tray in hand, on top of which rested a gaudy little teapot, a cup of milk, some sugar, and honey. After setting the tray down on the coffee table, he pushed a little plate full of baked goods toward her, then poured her a cup of tea.</p>
<p>Emmy picked up her cup and breathed in the deep, spicy aroma. "Thank you, Hershel. But you know, I probably should go soon. My roommate wanted me to study with her tonight.”</p>
<p>“Of course, of course. I understand.”  He sat beside her and poured himself a cup.</p>
<p>And the entire exchange might have ended forthwith, except for the fact that the tea was delightful, and the company doubly so.  As polite conversation slowly turned into stimulating dialogue, banter became laughter, and stories from past and present were shared. Emmy was surprised to learn about the Professor's mysterious and intriguing anecdotes from excavations past, and the Professor was equally delighted to learn of her passions in music, sports, and photography. Before either of them knew it, midnight came and went, and they found themselves struggling to say goodbye.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>It started with a letter. Or, to be more precise: two.  The first was a letter of intent stapled to a hastily typed out resume full of grammatical errors and the like. At the top were the handwritten words: “Emmy Altava, for the position of Assistant #1.”  The Professor flipped over the resume to find the second letter.  A very short one, reading: “I like you, Hershel.  Meet me for dinner tonight?”</p>
<p>Later, the Professor inwardly chastised himself for feeling so nervous as he tried to smooth the wrinkles in his dress shirt. He approached the maître d' just inside the restaurant with his palms sweaty and his stomach full of butterflies. The man checked the list of reservations and pointed toward the back.  The restaurant was, in the Professor’s mind, unnecessarily dark, and the glittering antique lamps and chandeliers did little to light the way.  And yet, despite the dimly lit ambiance, he soon spotted Emmy, already seated at a table wearing a lovely deep blue dress.  Their eyes met.  He nodded and she smiled, and the Professor felt his heart skip a beat.</p>
<p>She stood to greet him.  She looked astounding.  The Professor had to remind himself to breathe.  Pleasantries were exchanged, compliments were given, and before long, the pair had ordered their meals.</p>
<p>The Professor rubbed his upper arm. “So,” he began, “you’re quitting business school?”</p>
<p>“Yes. I realized that it wasn’t me.”</p>
<p>“I see…”  He took a drink of water.  “Well, it’s better to figure that out now rather than later.  I should tell you now, though, that I don’t usually hire TAs—“</p>
<p>“I don’t want to be a TA.  I want to be your assistant for everything.  Your right-hand-woman, as it were.  I want to join you on your digs, help you decipher ancient texts.  Solve puzzles, expose criminals… And occasionally help you grade papers.”  Her eyes seemed to sparkle in the flickering candlelight.</p>
<p>“Well, I don’t have much power to determine pay, but I might be able to do some negotiation. With that said, though, it won’t come close to the salary of an accountant.”</p>
<p>She shrugged.  “I never much cared for desk jobs, anyways.  Besides, if I get into a financial pinch, I’ll just move in with you.”  She rested her chin on folded fingers and winked.</p>
<p>The Professor nearly choked on his next drink of water.  He felt his face grow very warm as images of Emmy Altava comfortably living in his home snaked through his mind.</p>
<p>“Just think it over.” She smiled. The corners of her eyes wrinkled, and again the Professor felt that little hint of warmth deep in his belly blossom once more.</p>
<p>Dinner came and went.  He ordered a salad. She ordered pasta. And yet, their meals weren’t nearly as enchanting as the person sitting opposite. Even during a lull in the conversation, neither could keep themselves from smiling absent-mindedly. Then, in the parking lot outside of the restaurant, before Emmy could hike up her dress and take off on her scooter, the Professor found himself doing something he couldn’t have dreamed of just an hour before.  He stroked her cheek, brushing away a loose strand of hair, then leaned in close and touched his lips against hers, lightly.  The little gasp that escaped her was divine, and what came next was even more so.  She wrapped her arms around him, tilted her head just a few degrees, and pulled him toward her, this time with more intensity.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>It started with a “Let’s end here for today,”  the shuffling of a hundred-or-so feet toward the exits on either side of the lecture hall, and the smell of chalk dust as the eraser pushed away that day’s notes.  “See you Thursday,” said the last student to leave.  The Professor turned to wave and spotted, from the corner of his eye, a splash of color approaching his desk from the other side.  He turned.  There, just a few paces away, stood Emmy Altava.  Her eyes were bright, inquisitive, coy.</p>
<p>“Good evening, Hershel.”</p>
<p>“Good evening, Emmy.”  He hurriedly set down his chalkboard eraser and approached her. “I didn’t see you up there. Did you watch the whole lecture?”</p>
<p>“I did.” She grinned. “Much more interesting than Economics 101. Speaking of, any news about my proposition?”</p>
<p>“I’m happy to say I’ve persuaded the Dean to accept. And to give you a tidy salary as well.” He brushed his hands together to free them of any remaining chalk dust, then pulled the acceptance letter from his coat pocket and held it out to her.</p>
<p>Without so much as a glance at the letter, she wrapped her strong arms around him and pressed her lips against his. She hummed in laughter against his mouth, and he felt his heart flutter.  How delicious it was to have another person’s mirthful delight so close! The Professor ran his fingers through her soft curls, wishing he could live this moment for eternity. And yet, much too soon for his liking, she pulled away. When he tried to reclaim the distance, she stopped him with a single finger pressed to his bottom lip.</p>
<p>“I have a surprise for you,” she whispered into his ear. And before a question could fully form in his mind, she had begun to glide down his body to kneel on the floor. From this position, her hands started at his knees and slid upward; a part of him jumped eagerly in response. Her smile and her eyes grew wide. She licked her lips as she glanced up into the Professor’s eyes, then kissed the fabric alongside his pocket as her fingers fumbled to unclasp his belt buckle.</p>
<p>He should stop her. He knew he should. After all, any number of people could walk through those doors at any time and catch them like this. A student, the Dean… This was simply too risky. And with that thought in mind, he might have ended things right there had it not been for the electrifyingly intoxicating feeling of Emmy’s firm grip.</p>
<p>She started slow, whispering salacious praises that he could scarcely comprehend as she stroked his length with her fingertips. She licked along the underside, kissed the tip. But then, a moment later, without so much as a word of warning, her hot mouth completely engulfed him with desperate hunger.</p>
<p>“Emmy,” he groaned. The simple sound, which had been intended to admonish, only served to spur her on faster. She gripped his hips and forced him in as far as she could handle, then pumped the rest of his length with her fist. The mere sight of her sucking his cock deep into her throat sent shivers down his spine. He shut his eyes; his knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of his own desk just behind him. “Don’t stop,” he pleaded. "Don't stop."</p>
<p>She hummed in response. The vibrations sent a shock through his body. He put a hand on her hair to steady himself. Her long, soft curls under his skin brought him back to Earth; he ran his fingers through them, touched the curve of her ear lightly with his thumb, and stroked the soft skin of her neck and shoulder. And when he opened his eyes again, he was greeted by the sight of her fondling herself with her jacket unzipped and open, revealing her bare, shirtless chest.</p>
<p>She smiled. The corners of her eyes wrinkled. The Professor gasped, “I’m not going to last much longer.”</p>
<p>She leaned back just a bit; she rubbed his thickness along the inside of her cheek and stared up at him as though encouraging him to come straight into her open mouth. As she continued to pump with one hand, her other one slipped beneath the waistband of her jeans. She closed her eyes as her fingers moved.</p>
<p>That’s the moment when he felt himself slip off the precipice; he groaned her name once more as wave after wave of cum filled her mouth and throat. It dribbled down her chin in long, ropy strands and clung to her bare chest. She laughed and smiled.</p>
<p>Shortly after, the Professor had her turned around and bent over his desk. His hands lustfully caressed every inch of sopping wet, slippery skin on her stomach and chest. From behind, he massaged her neck with his teeth as his hands teased her hard nipples. She groaned open-mouthed and pressed her backside against him, urging him on. He unbuttoned her pants and pushed them down around her knees, then swept his hands over her thighs.</p>
<p>Desperate for her release, Emmy wiggled her rear end against his erection and tried to angle herself just right, but the Professor had other ideas.</p>
<p>“Not yet,” he whispered into her ear. With his hands still wet from his own cum, he slithered a hand down her body and between her dripping folds. She cried out and bucked forward; the Professor rubbed the nub and felt her whole body tense up in response. Meanwhile, he rubbed his cock along her entrance in long, slow strokes. She cried his name and arched her back; her arms trembled to support her upper body on the desk.</p>
<p>“Hershel,” she moaned. <em>“Fuck me—“</em></p>
<p>And with those words, he finally allowed himself to ram into her hard and fast. She gasped. Papers and curios scattered from the desk as Emmy sought to steady herself against the Professor's driving force. With each thrust, his name became a chant, a song which dripped from her lips like honey.</p>
<p>“Almost there,” he muttered, rubbing her swollen clit. "You're getting close, I can feel you. <em>Cum for me, Emmy."</em></p>
<p>Her writhing figure tensed up and she cried out his name; the sound echoed off the high ceiling as her entire body convulsed around his cock. A few thrusts later, he too felt himself losing control; hot seed poured into her body once more as she collapsed against the cool mahogany desk.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p><em>How did this all start?</em> he wondered lazily one morning. It was difficult to pinpoint the exact moment when it had all come together. But as he rolled over to see Emmy Altava sleeping cozily beside him in his bed, in his home, snoring softly with a smile on her face, all he knew was that she had become a central part of his life and that he never, ever, wanted it to end.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>.</p>
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